The Simplicity of it all
by MrsGatsby
Summary: She's a mysterious, troubled girl with no way out. He's offering her safety and protection. He wants to love her. But how hard could it be? To love? Jack's just about to find out... "I see dead people," she whispered shakily into his ear making his skin crawl, a cold chill running down his spine...
1. Chapter 1

****All rights go to James Cameron. His characters and storyline, my fanfic. Please do not reproduce plot without permission from MrsGatsby, 2013****

_So a lot of people must either know me as the following: "Gracii Rose Dawson", "Blue Eyed Artist's Girl" or even the "Copier and horrible writer" hahaha wow, such bad reputations. I know I've been on hiatus for like, forever, but I should be back. I think._

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April 10, 1902

The two figures walked briskly down the halls; one a woman with hair tied up in a messy bun, which was covered by her big brimmed hat which covered most of her face which was a ghastly pale. The person besides her was a child. A girl with fiery, red curly hair which could not be tamed to the slightest. Her hair threatened to break free from the rubber band that held it in place, and some stray curls fell into the girl's face, making her big green eyes stand out against her beautiful, full face. Both wore lovely dresses, which were now smeared with dirt and mud, but they didn't seem to notice. There was something wrong, the little girl knew it from the way her mother peered behind her shoulder every second, and as if she thought someone was following them. The way her mother's grip tightened around her daughter's tiny wrist as if someone would try and steal her away scared Rose, making her body tingle with fear as it coursed through her like a wildfire. She didn't understand why her mother was acting this way. Scared and angry.

"Mummy?" she asked, her voice trembling. Her heart wracked through her chest, making it hard to breathe as she struggled to keep up with her mother's fast pace. Ruth didn't bother to look down at her daughter as she continued to drag her through the building which was plain, big and overall, ominous. There was nothing but walls and hallways, and it smelled like lots and lots of dust, making Rose's nose tickle; she fought the urge to sneeze. It was quiet. Too quiet. There should've been noise but there wasn't. The silence chilled the seven year old girl to the bone, and she shivered involuntarily. The only noise was the soft breaths of the two women which reverberated all over the building.

"Shh, Little Duck," Ruth said, giving her daughter's arm a strong yank to make her be quiet. Her voice was panicked, and she herded Rose in front of her, frail hands pushing her along. Rose looked up anxiously at her mother who offered her a forced smile and a nod, telling her everything would be alright. Everything would be fine: that's what she had told Rose as soon as they took off from their home not even a couple hours ago as they dashed into the woods behind their house, running faster and faster, away from the horrors that awaited them back where they lived.

"Mummy, where are we going? Where's Father?" Ruth shuddered to herself as soon as the words left Rose's mouth, and she knelt down in front of her daughter so she was eye level with her. Her cold hands gripped Rose's shoulders tightly, making the little girl wince due to the pain. She had never seen her mother this frantic before, but today was different. Rose would've considered it another one of their games that they played in the trees, laughing, but no, it was not the same. There was no light in Ruth's eyes, only trepidation.

"Your father… won't be coming with us," Ruth replied simply, trying to put it into plain terms for her daughter to understand. Rose's eyebrows raised in confusion before she looked behind Ruth, perplexity lingering in her bright green eyes.

"But, he's right there." With a stubby finger, she pointed behind Ruth. A chill ran through the woman's spine as she squeezed her eyes shut, goosebumps running across her pale skin. Ruth let out a sound that was between a whimper and cry, and she spun her daughter around so her back was pressed against Ruth's stomach.

"Run child and don't turn around. Don't look back, Rose." She gave her daughter a gentle shove after tenderly kissing her scalp. It was a delicate motion that made Rose queasy, but she did as she was told, running faster and faster, little legs taking her as fast as they would. She felt Ruth behind her, her mother's breaths coming in short gasps as she screamed things out, curses and profanities and cries and pleas. How high her voice made Rose scared which only made her run faster, to where, she had no idea.

"Turn left, Rose!" she obeyed, diligently rounding the corner, her shoulder smacking into a picture frame when she slammed into the wall as she failed to turn fast enough. With a groan, Rose dropped to the ground like a rag doll, clutching her right shoulder with her left hand. Tears bubbled out from her eyes, obstructing her eyesight, and she let out a cry of pain as fire attacked her shoulder.

"Oh God," Ruth whispered as she dropped to her knees, drawing Rose into her arms, hands shaking as she pried Rose's tiny hand away from her shoulder. Glass was everywhere around the little girl, and Ruth suppressed a snivel when she felt some of it digging into her knees when she sat. "Let me see darling," she said calmly, eyes darting around the area, fear pulsing through her. Low moans and hisses came from what seemed like everywhere and Ruth stifled a cry by inhaling sharply, looking helplessly at Rose's shoulder which had pieces of broken glass embedded into her creamy skin. A trail of crimson went down Rose's arm, and she continued to sob into her mother's chest, clutching her mother's dress with her free arm, blubbering about the pain. "I know Little Duck, I know," Ruth whispered, sitting Rose up before kissing her hand. "It'll be okay." She cradled her frail child protectively against her before Rose's eyes flashed.

"He's here again."

Ruth's eyes flew open as she struggled to stand, helping her daughter up. "Come on Rose," she said, helping her daughter run. There was nowhere to go. Her daughter was crying, and Ruth felt helpless. Pale green eyes flashing, she caught sight of a door. She yanked it open to see it was a closet, and relief flooded over her as she ushered Rose into it. "Come on!" Rose obeyed and curled into a ball with Ruth not far behind her. Their hearts beat in unison, out of fear. Panic. Anxiousness. It was dark when Ruth shut the door, and they filed to the back of the closet, Ruth hovering above Rose protectively, kissing her softly before tucking a strand of her hair behind her daughter's ear. "We're safe Little Duck." Ruth let out a breath and closed her eyes momentarily, holding Rose tightly to her body. Rose inhaled sharply, causing Ruth to look down at her. "What's wrong?"

Her voice quaked, and Ruth's skin crawled, a chill running down her spine.

"He found us."


	2. Chapter 2

****All rights go to James Cameron. His characters and storyline, my fanfic. Please do not reproduce plot without permission from MrsGatsby, 2013****

_Author's Note: To say that life isn't driving me crazy would be an understatement, but somewhere, I was able to write this. Okay._

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March 1, 1912

The same strident scream pierced the darkness of the cell, and Rose sat up, screaming bloody murder, her tears spilling down her pale skin. Tears spilled down her porcelain cheeks, and she sobbed into her pillow, shuddering with every breath she took. Her body wracked with heartfelt sobs, and she thought that maybe if she cried more, all the pain would fade away and just leave. The same nightmare was here; it was never-ending. It reoccurred every night, and Rose would wake up, screaming just the same as she did now. The nightmare wasn't just a dream, though… it was a memory… a memory that Rose had tried to get rid of… but couldn't… when the moon showed its radiance, and the blue sky turned black, karma loved to remind her of that terrible day…

"Be quiet! You little whore!" a security guard called harshly, voice rough and irate. Through the shadows and darkness, Rose saw his shadow as he banged on the cell, his bat colliding with the metal as it reverberated slightly making Rose curl up in a ball, as if maybe the fetal position would help any. Of course, it didn't. The nightmares continued to penetrate her skull, and there was no way out. Rose shivered in her cell and coughed slightly, willing for herself to be quiet. If she made a sound… Rose didn't want to think of the explicit things the guards would do with her. The thought of their hands on her bare skin made her skin crawl, and she shook slightly. Her throat was on fire, and Rose pushed a sweaty curl out of her eyes. Her fever hadn't broken yet, and as she coughed, her body convulsing slightly. Rose curled into a fetal position, wrapping the sheet around her body tighter in an attempt to go back to sleep, but she couldn't. The nightmares would just catch up to her as she stumbled through the darkness, willing them to go away.

Footsteps awoke Rose from her dreamless slumber, and she blinked wearily, pushing a stray red curl out of her eyes. Keys jingled, and Rose tensed as someone came into her cell. Her heartbeat quickened, beating ten to a dozen, and she sat up, pulling the sheet up to her heart in fear. Her green eyes flickered past, and immediately, Rose reached for the little pocket knife that was tucked securely underneath her mattress. As she fumbled for it, her fingers shook like mad and that didn't seem to help the situation at all. A small whimper came from the base of her throat, and Rose tensed, finally freeing her knife as she waved it wildly out into the darkness, adrenaline pumping through her veins. There would be no way that anyone would torture her tonight. The voices would not get her. The men would not get her. She had to be brave.

"Hey, it's alright. It's just me." Rose instantly relaxed, and she dropped her knife onto the ground with a clatter as it touched the cold, cobblestone floor. She'd recognize that sweet, kind voice anywhere. Rose's face lit up only for an instant as Jack came over to her and sat on the hard bed with her. She felt him bend over to grab the fallen knife before tucking it back safely under the mattress. His blue eyes searched hers, whispering so many questions to her. _What happened? How do I make it better? What can I do for you? _Rose could just blink wearily at him and shake her head. There was nothing that he would do or say that would make anything better in this cold, cruel world that she called a home.

There were no women working at the facility, and Jack was the closest she had to one. Not that Rose was saying Jack was a woman, but he _was_ the kindest worker here. His dirty-blonde hair fell carelessly into his gorgeous blue eyes, and Rose insecurely pulled her blanket up higher; her nightgown was just a mere man's shirt, one of Jack's shirts to be exact, yet it was too big. If it were not for Jack's shirt, Rose would be completely nude. It went down just past her lower thighs, and Rose admitted, it exposed a lot. You could see her breasts through the white fabric, and Jack seemed to be the only gentleman there to not look at that particular area. His kindness tended to go unnoticed around the asylum, the loony bin as some of the workers called it. Except for the patients. They noticed. Crazy as they might have been, they noticed. That's what counted had told her before. He wrapped his arms around Rose's shoulders and pulled her closer to him, so she was practically sitting on his lap. Breathing in Jack's familiar scent of the charcoal and fresh parchment, Rose exhaled slowly, feeling her whole body relax. Everything around her seemed to fade and being in Jack's arms almost made Rose think that she was at home. But home was a foreign word to Rose. She hadn't had one in many many years. Rose's grip fastened tighter around Jack's shirt, clutching him to her more, her heartbeat frantic and loud against his soft, steady one. The voices stirred in her head, taunting her, teasing her as they threatened to drag her down into the pit with them. She whimpered and buried her face in his chest as Jack protectively wrapped his arms tighter around her. Being a bit malnourished, Rose seemed so fragile, as if Jack hugged her too tight, she would break into pieces. "Nightmare?" he whispered, and Rose nodded. "It's alright… it's not real, Rosie…" Jack kissed the top of her head.

"That's just the thing; though… it was real… it was a bad memory…" Rose whispered, her voice shattering slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, hugging Rose and burying his face into the crook of her shoulder. This was a question that Jack asked her routinely. The answer was never yes and Jack never pushed it. But he always asked in hopes that maybe this broken girl would one day open up to him and let him in. Jack didn't know the whole story of what happened to Rose, but he was determined to find out. He had met Rose merely a couple months ago, and she attached onto him like a bee collecting pollen from a flower. The breeze made Jack shiver, and he waited patiently for her response, feeling her body tremble from underneath his. What had happened to this girl that beat her down this bad? Rose shook her head, shifting her weight slightly. Jack stifled a sigh of disappointment, and he looked down at her, concern lingering on his face. Her eyes burned with tears, and Rose bit down on her bottom lip.

"No. not yet." Jack resisted the urge to hit his own head on the brick wall; sometimes Rose could be impossible. She never wanted to talk about her dreams with Jack, so he had no way to help her, and she had to suffer it all on her own. She was too stubborn to be convinced, and there was definitely no use arguing with her. Finally, he was grateful that he had taken the job offer at the asylum. It paid on minimum wage, but Jack was thankful. If he hadn't had this job, he never would've met Rose. The love of his life. In his mind. He learned to be with a girl who refused to look at him for awhile and when she did, her green eyes burned with a fear and hatred that all men were the same. Jack had proven her wrong. And somewhere in between there, he had fallen in love with the broken, crazy girl that was in a cell for unknown reasons.

Jack sighed and held her so close he could feel her heart beating. It wasn't in sync with his but rather beating ten to a dozen. He pushed a sweaty curl out of her face and kissed her parched lips, murmuring sweet nothings to the girl.

Jack held Rose for a while and sighed. Soon, her breathing slowed, and she snored lightly, and Jack smiled down at her. She was broken. This asylum didn't clear the anarchy in her mind. It made her feel worse. She had a jail cell rather than the comforts of a warm room with a bed with a soft pillow and awaiting blankets. If anything, being confined in here made Rose insane instead of being checked in here awhile ago. It broke Jack's heart to think of his lover being hurt. "I love you, Rose," he whispered as he held her. He waited and waited, but he got no response…


End file.
